Original ART Christmas Cards/Posters Available

Three Days Christmas Cards Posters Learn More	Noel Christmas Cards Posters Learn More
She - Dance Christmas Cards Posters Learn More	Sistory Blank Cards Posters Learn More

If you are looking for unique Christmas cards or a meaningful gift idea (and want to contribute to an aritist's livelihood at the same time :-) ), I have just the thing for you!

I've taken my original paintings -Three Days, Noel and She Dance - and have made Christmas cards and posters available through CafePress. The painting Sistory is also available as blank cards and posters.

There is a store for each individual design, so click on the link under each thumbnail above to see the corresponding items available. (NOTE: You must click each specific link in order to view each specific painting.) Also, you have a choice of ordering cards in either a glossy or matte finish.

Many people have expressed interest in my original art and this is a cool and easy way to get it in your hands. Check it out and let me know what you think or if there are other items you'd like to see!

Created to BE His...
Angela Josephine


www.cafepress.com/ajshe
www.cafepress.com/ajsistory
www.cafepress.com/ajnoel
www.cafepress.com/ajthreedays

KNOCK, KNOCK - Who'sh 'ere? – GOD (Any more stupid questions?)

The September tour of Detroit and Indiana was a great time and I enjoyed meeting you all! There were so many God moments that it’s tough to identify only one. But that’s sort of where I am going with the following story. It’s really not about one moment – it’s about THE moment. Aren’t you intrigued? (O.K. – maybe just mildly curious.)

So here’s the story.

When I left for Indiana, I was popping Halls like candy and praying like Paul for the scales to be lifted from my eyes… my nose… my head… you name it. I’d been fighting a cold all week, but felt well enough to get on the road. (Note to self: What is ‘well enough’?). You see, I’d done this once before on a tour of Pennsylvania and was much, much worse. God sent good care at that time. I stayed in a home where they made me fresh carrot juice (I am aware that most people don’t consider that a blessing) and had people scoring me Slippery Elm lozenges in such a way that I was worried I might get arrested.

This was different. This was INDIANA. Home of the Hoosier! Since I don’t know what a Hoosier is, I had to look it up on the internet. Some knowledgeable types on Wikipedia think it had to do with a Frontier greeting. Supposedly, when approaching a man's home in those early frontier days, you shouted from afar, "Hello, the cabin!" to avoid being shot. The inhabitants would then shout back "Who'sh 'ere?" (who's there). As it got slurred together over time, the country folk came to be called Hoosiers. (It should be noted that in the early days in Detroit, if you shouted “Hello the cabin!” -you would get shot.)

All things considered, I don’t suspect that definition is very flattering to the people of Indiana. And since I approached many ‘cabins’ without offering the so-called ‘secret greeting’ and am alive to tell the tale, I’d have to say that myth is busted. The folks I did encounter were nothing but kind and hard–working and three of them make up the band Consider. Besides being a great band, they were also gracious hosts and made sure that my niece LeAnna and I were well taken care of. They went above and beyond the call of duty, but you know they are sold out to that Jesus guy and are the quintessence of another definition of Hoosier I found…. “a brawny man, capable of stilling opponents.” I think Jesus may have been a Hoosier.

So I persisted and subsisted on the tour, all the while having the same recurring thought and experience…

Trust God in the moment… good, bad or otherwise. What this means to me is that instead of evaluating something through my fog-brained, limited perspective – I am to trust that God is at work in everything.

With that in mind, I decided that I would break up the long trip home and stop to see some good friends in Kalamazoo. Julie and Gary live on a lake and have two really cute kids who kept me entertained and unexpectedly held captive. I thought I was doing a good thing by letting their very precocious toddler temporarily play with my keys. What I didn’t take into consideration is that she is, after all, a toddler and one whose favorite thing in the world is keys… especially new ones. After much tears and trickery, we were able to recover the keys and I was free to go. It was really fun to see them and… it was a nice moment.

The second stop was to see Lisa in Grand Rapids. She is the fiery and fiercely passionate CEO of the American Red Cross of Southwest Michigan and a great friend. She chauffeured this very tired and very contagious looking woman to a warm and cozy restaurant for an impossibly good dinner. We always have a lot to talk about! It was a nice… long… moment.

The problem was 6 a.m.

That was the time I had gotten up.

The second problem was 9 p.m.

That was the time I was leaving her house.

The final and determining problem (aside from being a dead woman walking) was 11:30 p.m.

That was the time I would probably get home.

If I drove fast.

And didn’t get arrested.

Maybe this wasn’t so different than the Pennsylvania, slippery-elm-popping tour I referred to earlier.

At that point, I became very tempted to think I was a complete idiot (feel free to agree with me) and should have done things differently. She asked me to stay. I was on my way home. What could I do about it at that point?

Trust God in the moment.

I made it to Reed City which is about an hour or so north of Grand Rapids and decided I couldn’t go any further without finding something to keep me awake and alive, aside from the car needing gas – but somehow that part seemed less important. Do you know how many beverage choices there are at a gas station?

So, there I stood (and may be standing still) if a young girl hadn’t stopped and shocked me out of my head-cold-muddled indecision.

“I have that shirt!”

I was wearing the Consider t-shirt the band had given me. The same band I had just been gigging with in Indiana.

I believe my response was very profound, something like…

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She had gotten the shirt at Big Ticket Festival - where I had first met Consider (I am not kidding you either). I told her where I was coming from and about playing in Indiana with the guys.

She had a message for me to pass on. “Tell those guys that I pray for them whenever I think of them.”

I guess she could have sent an email.

I guess that wouldn’t have been as cool.

I guess God will use everything for His good.

Even an idiot like me.

Trust God in the moment.

Yeah… I get it.

So tell me… what’s your ‘God in the moment’ story?

(Thanks so much to Pastor Heather at St. Philips in Trenton, Pastor Charles at First Congregational in Rockwood, Pastor Daniel at Trinity First Wesleyan in Southgate, Café Crossing in Middlebury, Downtown Grounds in Syracuse, Pastor Scott at NWUMC, Jeremiah and Marcie of 40 Miles North – great to see you! Thanks to my friend Mark who introduced me to Downriver, to Carla for a great September, to Joe just because, LeAnna my roadie and Mike, Jeremy, Nathan (Consider) and families!)

OF HAMMERED DULCIMERS AND RINGING BELLS

CCM Magazine assistant editor Lindsay Williams posted a challenge to musicians – of which I was included - to submit an anecdote about my favorite instrument and how I got it. The winner of the blog will appear in CCM Magazine. I was thankful for the challenge, if only to write something worthwhile! Check it out and if you choose to comment, it would be really awesome if you did it here AND at the CCM site:
www.myccm.org/angelajosephine/blog

“I have been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck.” - Annie Dillard, Pulitzer Prize Winner for Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, 1975

I was driving down the road many slivered moons ago, blissfully minding my own darn business, when the Rich Mullin’s song Calling Out Your Name came on the radio and in one fury of a pheasant’s wing (because there are no grouse in Michigan) my life was effectively sideswiped. I guess you could call it my Damascus Road experience and how I got home after that blinding episode is beyond me. All I knew was that if the scales were ever going to fall from my eyes, I had to find my Ananias, which turned out to be an album called, “The World As Best As I Remember It – Volume One”. I also knew that I’d eventually have to get whatever the heck instrument this guy was playing. Never mind that I had no idea who Rich Mullins was or where to begin looking for him. I began by going to my favorite store because I was convinced they carried all the music that counted, but they kept asking me if I meant S h a a a w n Mullins and they said it in a long, drawn-out way like I was some idiot who’d lost her mind on the way there. Up until that point, a Christian bookstore was another planet I had yet to set foot on.

Even so, the album was by far an easier thing to come by than that elusive instrument that God used to lift and strike me. By my own estimation, two instruments had gotten married and given birth to a perfect Middle Eastern child with an Irish brogue. If I couldn’t produce such a miracle on my own behalf, I was willing to adopt. Little did I know that I would spend the next ten years slaving to learn to play piano, guitar and mountain dulcimer, forging an independent music career in the process, before I would actually get the one instrument I had longed for - a hammered dulcimer.

The story of actually GETTING the hammered dulcimer isn’t that remarkable in the way that some stories go. In fact, it’s ridiculously simple and embarrassingly obvious along the lines of, “Why didn’t I think of that?” One day, my husband – of whom I am convinced, is a genius - handed me some information about a dulcimer festival in Evart, MI and said, “Why don’t you just go and buy a hammered dulcimer?” Was he kidding? I mean, wasn’t it supposed to fall out of the sky or arrive in a burning bush or something?

So I went to the festival and met a guy named Dave. The first song he played for me was one of Rich’s and I guess that was the closest thing I was going to get to a burning bush. He told me that if I was looking for a great instrument I should check out the ones made by Bob Tack. I found Bob in the merchandise tent. When he began to play this one in particular, the heavens parted and I recognized that ringing. It matched the one that had been echoing in my heart for over ten years.

So, I bought it.

Now, I am not a gear guru so don’t expect me to remember things like how many strings there are (there are a LOT of them and yes, I have to tune them ALL) or what kind of wood it’s made of (but it IS so pretty).

These are the kinds of thing I remember.

I remember Bob.

I was in Nashville recording Grace Exhaled when the news came that Bob passed away unexpectedly. I had just gotten done in a session with my producer and decided there were questions that needed answering and next to God, there was none other than Bob who could answer them. Bob had become used to my endless barrage of questions that eventually all added up to the same exact question, “Are you sure I’ll be able to sort this thing out?” He assured me that I would. Apparently, he thought he’d given me all the answers I needed.

So I remember Bob and feel like a part of him lives on when I play the instrument he made with his own two hands.

I also remember that sometimes you just have to go and buy a hammered dulcimer, which is by far the best practical advice I have ever been given.

And I remember the most important thing ever. Every time I hit those strings, I am a bell and I was made to call out His name.

VOTE FOR ME IN UNITY FEST CONTEST! (Pretty Please)

Great news!!! My application is accepted and I am officially in the Unity Fest Ovation Contest!

To VOTE click here: VOTE FOR GLORY LORD
Create a login, LISTEN TO AND RATE the song with 5 stars being the best - which is how I hope you'll vote. ;-)

Feel free to PASS IT ON and THANK YOU for taking a minute of your time to do this as it will help spread the word about my music and ministry. I can't do it without you and you are all part of the reason I am doing what I do!

WHY I CHOSE GLORY LORD!:
Why would I choose to feature Glory Lord to introduce you to my music? It's not a very long song by any stretch of the imagination and lyrically, it is one of my most minimal. How could a little song like Glory Lord really say anything about who I am as an artist?

The truth is - it has everything to say. I can sing, write, and record but my greatest fulfillment comes when a song takes on a life of its own; becoming bigger than my isolated experience of it. Little as it is, this song Glory Lord did that in a big way at Unity Fest in Muskegon, Michigan a few years back.

It was the end of my set and as I strummed the last chord of the song on my mountain dulcimer, a very cool thing happened. Everyone kept singing , the refrain "Glory Lord" echoing out in time to a cadence of clapping hands. The people began to stand and walk forward together. I did the only thing I could do. I got down off the stage and joined them in a tight circle. It wasn't my song anymore. It became a personal prayer of anyone who was singing it and worshipping God at that moment.

ABOUT THE CONTEST:
Artist Ovation and the CFA are launching festival competitions all over the nation. The winner of each festival competition will win the opportunity to play live at that festival. Moreover, these winners are automatically selected as finalists in a national contest, with the grand prize winner receiving a recording deal from the premier Christian Music label in the industry - Word Label Group

MY SISTER AND LAURA BENNETT DEMYSTIFIED

I wanted to post this photo from South Carolina of my sister Donna and I. My sister is on the right... as if you need me to tell you that. LOL


As for Laura Bennett, people have wanted details. As I said, Donna was the brave soul and would know those details. You can go to her blog www.pinkdonna.blogspot.com and ask her.

For the record, my impressions were what I shared in the last blog. The point being not so much about Laura Bennett or my sister Donna - but the recognition and celebration of women with an indomitable spirit. Alas, I am too artsy for my own good and wouldn't make a great gossip columnist. ;-)

I MET LAURA BENNETT!!!

(Photo courtesy of ProjectRunway.com)

I met Laura Bennett! O.K. – if I were to be totally honest, I let my sister do the dirty work of accosting her in the airport and then came along after the deed was done. Never mind the fact that I was squealing silently (yes – such a thing can be accomplished) and almost jumping up and down when I first spotted her standing across the aisle from us. And forget about turning 40! The 18 year old in me is alive and well!

It was especially cool because Donna and I had JUST been talking about her. It was during one of our all day pajama sessions with the Food Network. Is it chemo's way of seasoning all real food to taste like metal or the new appeal of the sofa that has led to Donna’s addiction with FN? We aren’t sure, but I did tease her more than once about being masochistic.

The fact that I know who Laura Bennett is tells you something about me. Yes, I am a Project Runway freak. You may, a) get what I am talking about and squeal silently (or aloud), b) shake your head in disappointment at my obvious lack of class or c) be totally clueless. If you don’t know what I am talking about, I owe you at least that.

Project Runway is a show where “wanna be” designers compete in different challenges for the title of Top Designer and the chance to start their own label. For example, one of the challenges required the designers to make their design out of recycled products. I am willing to put up with the reality show “ick” to witness the thing I never grow tired of; one challenge having as many creative and unique outcomes as there are people involved.

I have to admit that in the end, the ‘reality’ part won out. At the airport, I told Laura Bennett that we had been cheering her on to win and she pumped her arm triumphantly. You see what I love about Laura Bennett, her designs aside, is her indomitable spirit. Just like my sister Donna who marched right up to her to introduce herself. And they say we gravitate towards the people whose traits we want to exhibit. I guess that tells you something else about me.

10,20,30,40...

Yesterday I turned 40. I am as old as my mother was when she gave birth to me. When I was 10, I bore that fact like a badge on behalf of my mother. I was really proud of her… having a baby at THAT age. It’s a wonder she didn’t disown me.

My teenagers gave me a little grief yesterday – but only a little. I don’t think they really think of me as old. Even if they did, I am happy to be where I am. I’ve challenged, fought and relented to the understanding that you don’t have to have it all figured out and that the best times are often the simplest times.

Like last night. The boys came to me with their gift; the gift of themselves. They had planned a whole night around things I like – a movie, candy, popcorn - and they would be a part of it all. Even if it was a chick flick! (A term I would have never let them get away with when I was 20 – and a term they, as they are approaching 20, graciously spared me from last night.)

It would take the entire lifetime that I have lived to reach the age my mother is now. That’s a lot of time. Even so, what’s left isn’t what matters. There was a 30 year old girl I once knew who wrote a song about what is really significant and important. Today. Nothing is worth more than it! So happy day to you – however many years you are.

(Photo is of my mother in January of 1967, two months before I was born.)

A LONG WINTER

I haven't really treated this blog as a journal... more of a place to post my writing - meaning only those writings that I am willing to share. Trust me. There is enough that I am NOT willing to share. My sister Donna has inspired me to tell a bit more of my story, a bit more frequently. You can see a link to her page in the LINK section (original - I know!). She is fighting breast cancer and tells it like it is. I've always admired her for being direct and squirm about it at the same time. Her heart baring honesty is a light on my own dishonesty and a smack upside the head to be more forthright. She has reminded me that God uses our brokenness to bring mending. Our raw, honest appraisals don't scare Him away, in fact - they are the best stuff to work with.

Donna says that I am an inspiration and like her, I find that appraisal hard to bear. As an artist who is supposedly 'out there' in front of people - it's tough to keep a reign on motives. Inspiration can quickly become a goal to pursue rather than a thing that happens because you are just being who you are created to be. Who you are created to be becomes mucked up in all the hype.

So here are some words I wrote when I was thinking about all these things.

Words
collapsing
tumble, thrumming
down the mountain
in a roar
left behind
a cloud dispersing
in its silence saying more
listen close by breathing deep
the grit that scrapes the back of throat
the mountain settles in my soul
a foothold on my every note

I hope to continue to post more in journal form on a more frequent basis!